Déjà Vergier
by The Mocking J
Summary: When Raphael's first heist goes awry, he is assigned a new place to live. (AU)
1. Chapter 1

**[[** _ **First multi-chaptered Rhythm Thief fic... of course it's an AU involving adoption. Thanks to Spanglyspace for figuring out the plot with me.**_

 **Spoilers:** _ **For Emperor's Treasure.**_

 **Set:** _ **Before Emperor's Treasure. Starts with a twist on the Bonus Chapter 'Meeting Fondue'.**_ **]]**

* * *

 **Déjà Vergier**

This wasn't supposed to happen.

Raphael limped past the fountain, grimacing from the pain in his leg. He had set off an alarm at the Louvre and cut himself trying to escape out of a broken window. It was a dumb mistake, even for a rookie art thief.

Who was he _kidding?_ He wasn't an art thief, he wasn't his father. He was sixteen- little more than a kid.

He doubted that was going to earn the constables' sympathy. A pack of them was hot on his trail right now. He had to get away from here— out of Paris. Maybe he could even take that dog with him...

" _Attends!_ " A brown-haired policeman blocked his path. Unlike the other constables, he wore a stiff white shirt and a red tie. This guy meant business.

With his injured leg, Raphael couldn't do any fancy kicks or flips like he'd practiced. Good thing he still had his fists...

The policeman warned, "You are in no condition to resist arrest. Come quietly."

Raphael resisted anyway— punching the officer in the chin— resulting in him being handcuffed and chucked unceremoniously into the back of a police car.

Raphael hung his head as he was driven to the Constabulary headquarters. No one noticed the small white dog chasing after them.

...

"What is your name?"

"Phantom R," Raphael answered for the fifth time. He was proud of the alias, despite failing to make a famous fist impression as the phantom.

The policeman who'd caught him- Inspector Vergier- banged his fist on the interrogation table, "Your _real_ name!"

Raphael knew he had the right to remain silent, but where was the fun in that? "Mr R. _Phantom_ to my friends."

"It will not be long before your finger print samples return and we learn of your true identity, anyway."

Raphael's heart skipped a beat. Upon arriving at the Constabulary HQ, the police had bandaged up his leg, given him a full body search (boy, was that awkward) and taken samples of his fingerprints. If the cops discovered who he really was, they would probably raid his apartment and his father's secret basement. Either they would blame Raphael for the stolen artworks or they would question how a hopeless teenager had gotten hold of them.

Maybe they would go looking for his father. The last place Raphael wanted to see him was in prison...

Vergier tried cracking him from a different angle, "Why did you break into the museum? Did you intend to steal something?"

Raphael _had_ intended to start returning some paintings. If only he could tell Vergier that. Instead, he shrugged. "I was just taking a stroll."

"Breaking and entering, more like," Vergier squinted at him. "How _old_ are you?"

"Fourteen."

"I have a fourteen year old at home and you two look nothing alike. Where do you live?"

"The land of cheese."

"And your name is?"

Raphael bit his lip, peering at Vergier. "Promise you won't tell anyone?" Vergier leaned forward in his chair. "The honest-to-goodness birth name my parents gave me is... _Vergier."_

Vergier almost flipped the interrogation table. "That is it! Until you are willing to cooperate, you will remain in police custody."

"Wait!" Raphael protested as he was dragged through the halls to the detention cells. "Don't I get a trial or phone call or _something?"_ He could contact his neighbour Madame Paula or one of his school friends— they would vouch for him. On second thought, that may put his identify at risk...

By the time his finger print test was done, it wouldn't matter anymore.

The sound of the cell door clanging shut rattled around in Raphael's head. Was this to be his new home?

Hours later, after several failed escape attempts, Raphael heard Vergier returning:

"...I told you I would be home as soon as we have dealt with this delinquent boy."

A concerned female voice asked, "What on Earth did he do to make you so stressed out?"

"He broke into the Louvre and would not answer my questions seriously."

Vergier's companion didn't sound impressed. " _Seriously?_ How old is he?"

"A few years older than Charlotte, I suspect. He lied about his age— you will have to wait here, visitors are not allowed near the cells."

"Let me talk to him, Paul."

"Emma..."

Despite Vergier's protests, a woman with chin length purple hair approached Raphael's prison. Though her face appeared gentle, she was frowning.

"I hope you realise that what you did was very wrong. You caused my husband a lot of trouble and made him late for dinner."

Hearing this, Raphael's stomach rumbled. The constabulary had given him a less than satisfying portion of bread and water. He stared guiltily at Mrs Vergier, not having the energy to play games with her as well.

At the end of the day, Inspector Vergier was just doing his job, right? It wasn't his fault he didn't understand Raphael's dilemma.

"I- I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"Please can you tell me your name?"

"Raphael."

She nodded, "And where are your parents, Raphael? They must be worried, wondering why you're not home yet..."

Raphael winced at her words. "I don't have any parents."

Her expression softened. "I'm sorry to hear that, but it doesn't excuse what you did."

"It certainly does not." Vergier appeared to have been listening around the corner. Raphael stepped back when he joined them.

 _"However—"_ Mrs Vergier added "—Raphael's circumstances cannot be overlooked. Perhaps we should contact social services..."

That sent a shiver down Raphael's spine. Social services would be very interested to hear he'd been living on his own for a year. Would they consider... sending him to an orphanage?

"No, you _can't!_ " Raphael burst out. The Vergiers looked at him in shock. "You can't because... 'cause I have a dog but my apartment doesn't allow pets. If they find out, he'll get taken away from me!" He started sobbing. (He needed their pity, even if it cost his dignity.) "Then he'll get sent to the pound and maybe even p- _put down_. W-what if he's already a goner? I haven't fed him all day..!"

Mrs Vergier gasped, "Paul, I think he's having a panic attack. Open the cell door."

"Do not be fooled-"

 _"Open it!"_

With a resigned sigh, Inspector Vergier did as she said and she rushed inside to reassure Raphael. "It's alright, Raphael. You and your dog can... You can stay with us until everything is sorted out! How does that sound?"

Vergier's jaw dropped. _"What?!"_

"Y-you really mean it?" Raphael sniffed. Living under the inspector's roof was a better alternative to a cell or an orphanage. (And it would be easier to escape.) All he had to do now was find his dog—

There was a scream from one of the constables in the hall. _"A-ah!_ Who let this dog in here?"

Huh. That mutt may have been a chicken, but he had good timing.

* * *

"We're back, Charlie!"

Charlie perked up at her mother's call. She had gone to bring her father home, insisting they couldn't start dinner without him. Of course, she had said nothing against Charlie raiding the fridge.

She was eating fries in front of the T.V. when her parents walked in. Neither of them commented on the fact that she was too young to be watching this particular crime show. That was new.

Charlie turned to see they had a visitor with them; a red-haired boy, holding a white dog and a duffle bag.

Her mouth still full of fries, Charlie looked questioningly at her mother.

"Charlie, this is Raphael and his Alsatian Cheesehund..."

"Uh- Fondue," Raphael supplied.

"Woeuf!"

"...Raphael and Fondue are going to be staying with us."

"Temporarily," her father muttered. "Emma, may I talk to you in private?" The two of them went into their bedroom, speaking in hushed tones. She could have sworn her old man mentioned something about a criminal.

Charlie would have liked to get back to her T.V. show, but Raphael felt the need to make conversation.

"Nice place you got here," he remarked, glancing around her family's apartment. "Much bigger than my old haunt."

"Thanks..." (I guess?) "Where did you live?"

He hesitated a little. "Oh, you know, just around the city centre. That's where I met Fondue, scrounging in bins."

The canine was currently gazing at her fries. She shoved her plate behind her. "These are mine, but you can help yourself to the fridge if you want—"

Help themselves they did. Charlie's lip curled as the gluttons took enough to feed the entire Constabulary. The dog she could understand, but the boy was toothpick-thin! Where did he put all that food?

Raphael munched on a macaroon, motioning to the T.V. "What're we watching?"

"Ace Detective, Season 2, Episode 10."

Raphael raised an eyebrow as the detective unmasked the butler as the culprit. "Talk about clichéd..."

"How would you know?" Charlie wondered. "I assumed you had never seen this before."

"I haven't. I can't afford T.V., but sometimes I catch crime dramas on the radio." He stopped lounging in his chair when Charlie's parents came back.

"I see you have already made yourself comfortable..." Charlie's father grumbled. Her mother nudged him and he assured Raphael, "You may remain here until we find more suitable accommodations for you."

Charlie nearly choked on her fries. " _Quoi?_ You mean he isn't just staying for _one night_?"

Her mother sent her a stern glance, before smiling at Raphael. "You and Fondue can sleep in Charlie's room. Charlie, you'll share with me."

A _boy_ and a stinking _dog_ were stealing her room? She spluttered, "You must be joking-!"

"If it's easier, I'll crash out here on the couch," Raphael offered.

"I will take the couch," Vergier cut in. "And rest assured— I will be guarding the door."

"But _Mama..._!" Charlie moaned.

"No buts, Charlie. As your father said, it's only for a short while. Now come and help me move some things out of your room."

As Charlie trailed after her mother, she heard her father warn Raphael, "There better not be any funny business, especially towards my daughter. Are we clear?"

There was a smirk in Raphael's voice. "Crystal."

* * *

"I come bearing news of Isaac's son- he was apprehended by the Paris Constabulary earlier today."

Jean-François hummed. He was aware of how sickly Isaac's boy had been in his younger years, but hadn't he grown stronger with age? "This is surprising, and rather vexing... Pray tell, how did he fall into the Constabulary's clutches?"

"He was caught breaking and entering at the Louvre, we believe," the armoured messenger explained. "Now he is under the scrutiny of Inspector Paul Vergier."

Jean-François scowled. That meddling inspector had been on their case since Napoleon's casket was removed from Les Invalides. For all of his thieving ways, Isaac hadn't been able to pull off the heist undetected. (Jean-François knew it was a mistake to employ him.)

If Vergier interrogated Raphael, he ran the risk of exposing the Mystère Organisation. How wise was Raphael about his father's work? How much had Isaac shared with him? Clearly, Isaac couldn't be completely trusted.

"There is no need to concern Isaac with these developments," Jean-François smirked. "I will see to it that young Raphael is taken care of. As for our inspector friend...You may send him a warning in some shape or form."

The messenger bowed and turned his back on Jean-François. However, he warned, "It has been fifteen years, Graf. The organisation grows impatient. Everyone wants the emperor to reclaim his former glory-"

"Which will only be possible when the girl reaches her full potential; when she can play Moon Princess perfectly," Jean-François hissed. "I will decide when that is."

The messenger left without another word. Jean-François re-entered _St_ **.** _Louré Convent_ , where his star protégé was practicing the violin. (Soon he would have _two_ protégés.) He smiled at her. "Shall we take it from the top, Marie?"


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, it took Raphael several minutes to remember where he was. Charlie's blue walls were teeming with football posters. Most of her belongings had been shifted into her parents' room for the time being. (He'd make it up to her somehow.)

Raphael got up carefully, testing his weight on his leg. "Wakey-wakey, Fondue."

The dog was still slow to respond to his new name. He yawned and rolled over on the tatty blanket that served as his bed. "Lazy bones..." Raphael muttered, trying to open Charlie's window, only to recall it was bolted shut. So much for sneaking out. Hopefully no one had trashed his apartment.

At least his father's coin was safe, having been tucked in his pocket for luck yesterday. Raphael's first stunt as Phantom R may not have gone smoothly, but he wasn't stuck in prison. (That had to count for something, right?) However, there were still something he'd like from his apartment…

Any notions Raphael had about slipping out the front door were dashed when he discovered the Vergiers were already up and eating breakfast. Charlie was dressed in a stripy blue and white sports kit with her hair in a spiky ponytail. She scowled at Raphael over her teacup. Inspector Vergier's grunt of acknowledgement wasn't much cheerier.

Clearly, Mrs Vergier was the only morning person in the family. " _Bonjour,_ Raphael. How are you feeling? Is your leg okay now?"

"Much better, thanks, Mrs Vergier."

"Please, call me Emma! Would you like some pancakes?"

"Would I ever!" He took a seat besides Charlie and Emma passed him a plate. Fondue gave her puppy-dog eyes till he received a share as well.

"So... What's the plan for today?" Raphael wondered, piling pancakes into his mouth.

"You will return to Constabulary HQ with me," Vergier said without looking up from his paper. "I have a lot of work to do, so you had better be on your best behaviour."

"You're gonna force me to sit in your stuffy office all day? What if Fondue has to go out? He needs a walk!" Fondue yapped in agreement.

"I am not letting you out of my sight—"

"Why don't Raphael and Fondue come with me to the football match?" Emma suggested. "Charlie needs all the support she can get."

Both Charlie and her father griped:

"It's too embarrassing!"

"It is too risky!"

"More risky than keeping him in to your office, where he would feel confined again?" Emma raised an eyebrow.

Raphael made a show of shuddering. "I'm getting jitters just thinking about it."

Vergier pointed out dryly, "What if he attempts to escape?"

"And where would he go? He has no place to stay apart from here, no money unless he resorts to stealing. The Constabulary would be after him in an instant, but he wouldn't get far with that leg. You said you have work to get through, which would be much easier if you weren't constantly at each other's throats."

" _D'accord..."_ Vergier acquiesced. It seemed he couldn't survive another questioning session with Raphael. "But if there are any problems, let me know immediately." He mouthed to Charlie, "Do not let your guard down." She saluted.

"You worry too much," Emma kissed her husband's cheek and turned to the teenagers. "Are you two ready to go?"

"Woeuf!"

"Make that three."

* * *

Inspector Vergier was commonly one of the first to arrive at Constabulary HQ. Today was no exception, despite his precautions regarding Raphael. There was no arguing with Emma and Charlie could not be late for her game. Vergier regretted not being able watch her, but the quicker he confirmed Raphael's identity, the quicker he could get back to his real investigation…

On the way to his office he passed Eric, who, unsurprisingly, was in a panic. "I-Inspector Vergier, there is s-s-something you must know. It is urgent—!"

"Have the boy's fingerprint tests finally returned?"

" _O-oui,_ but we have bigger p-problems…"

"Is there a problem with the tests?"

"Er-"

"Then bring me the results immediately!"

Eric fled as Vergier reached his office door, which was hanging off its hinges. The inspector rushed inside. Evidently, someone had broken in and ripped through every single case file, spilling their remains across the floor. The mess was not what perturbed Vergier; neither was it the sword piercing the wall beside his torn-open safe. At the end of the blade, there was a threat:

" _Halt your investigations if you value all that you hold dear."_

Vergier crushed the paper in his fist and pulled a green folder out of the safe. His findings on the Mystère Incident had also been defaced. All of that work…

It did not matter. Not when Emma and Charlie, his whole world, were at risk. He would have to put the case on hold, at least for now.

A part of Vergier contemplated whether this intrusion was linked to Raphael entering their lives. The timing was odd, but he was certain Raphael had not left Charlotte's room last night. He was just an adolescent, albeit, a delinquent…

 _Who was he really?_

The fingerprint test did not answer that question. There were no matches to his identity. No birth certificate, no medical records- _nothing!_

How could this be? Was 'Raphael' his actual first name? Where did they even begin with his surname?

One thing was for definite. The sooner he moved Raphael to a safe location, the sooner Vergier could focus on protecting his family.

* * *

"Is that guy a friend of yours, Charlie?"

Raphael was sitting next to Emma in the stands, where he kept getting curious glances from Charlie's football team. So far, Raphael hadn't tried any 'funny business'. (Though, no one said Fondue couldn't leave…) He wouldn't do that to Emma after she'd been so kind to him. Besides, then he would miss the chance to 'encourage' Charlie. He stood up in his seat and did an impromptu cheerleading routine, chanting Charlie's name.

His muse ducked her head and dismissed her teammates' titters. "I have no idea who that is."

Emma smiled Raphael. "You're really getting into the spirit, aren't you?" Her smile became sad. "Paul would have liked to come too, but he's been so caught with this case lately…"

"What case?" Raphael wondered. The better question was: why did Vergier act like he had a stick up his butt twenty-four-seven?

"About a year ago, there was a mysterious incident at Les Invalides." Emma cast her head to the pointy building overshadowing the football pitch. "Paul hadn't told me that much about it..."

"I thought you were involved with Inspector Vergier's work?" She seemed pretty chilled visiting the cells yesterday…

"Oh, goodness, no!" Emma chuckled. "I'm an English teacher."

"Really?" Raphael blinked. "I had no idea."

"I moved here from Britain when I seventeen, so my accent is quite hard to detect now."

Raphael looked at her with newfound respect. "Wow, that's gotta be hard, learning a whole new language."

"My first year away from home was hard— _Go, Charlie_!" She paused as Charlie tackled an opponent, then continued talking to Raphael. "—But I made a living for myself."

Raphael went back to watching the game, quiet for a moment.

"Thank you, Raphael."

He turned to her again. "Huh? For what?"

"For being here… and for not ditching me yet-"

"Hold that thought," Raphael interrupted when he saw Fondue burst onto the pitch, splattering several players with mud. Something must have been chasing him.

 _Probably another cat..._ Raphael rolled his eyes and went to collect Fondue before he could disrupt the match any further.

Charlie recognised the runaway dog, whereas the rival team stopped and stared. This enabled Charlie to sneak in the deciding goal. Her team rejoiced as Raphael scooped up Fondue. "Yuk, you're filthy..." Now there was mud all over his clothes too, but at least his father's journal was okay. He removed it from Fondue's mouth and thanked him for retrieving it. (He promised the dog would get a treat later.)

"Raphael, get your backside over here!" He heard Charlie order. Raphael sighed, but saw the girl wasn't angry. She was grinning. "We are going somewhere to celebrate."

Her team were planning to have dinner at a local buffet. Charlie was so chuffed that she invited Raphael and Fondue along, since they had played a part in them winning. (It wasn't cheating— the other team shouldn't have gotten distracted by Fondue.) However, everyone needed to change first, Raphael especially.

"You stink," Charlie wrinkled her nose as they nipped into the Vergiers' apartment.

"Fondue's fault," Raphael said.

"Hrrrnnnn…"

"I'll wash those for you," Emma pointed at Raphael's dirty blazer and trousers. "In the meantime, maybe you can borrow something of Charlie's that fits…"

"If you must," Charlie yielded. "I'd rather not go to a restaurant with you smelling like that."

Raphael blushed. "Um, thanks? But I don't think any of your stuff will suit me, sorry."

Charlie snorted. "What, are you worried you will have to wear girl's clothes?

"Kinda', yeah…"

"As amusing as it would be to see you in a dress, I only wear them for school. I also have jeans, jackets and T-shirts not much different from what you are wearing now."

"Fine, I'll just take a jacket—"

"Why are you taking off each other's clothes?"

"Oh, you're home early," Emma gasped as Inspector Vergier exited the kitchen. "Charlie, Raphael and Fondue are going out for dinner."

"W-with the rest of the football team," Raphael added.

Vergier shook his head. "There is no time for that, I'm afraid. Raphael needs to prepare to leave."

Raphael froze. "Is this about my… fingerprint tests?"

"No, those are still pending. You have nothing to fear. Earlier I received a call from St. Louré Convent, just up the road from Constabulary HQ. A regular benefactor to the convent has agreed to house you _and_ your dog there, provided that you are well behaved."

"That was… fast," Emma hummed. "But it's good news. You and Fondue can stay together. The people at the convent are so kind; they will look after you and make sure you receive a good education."

"You can become a monk," Charlie teased.

 _Would now be a bad time to mention that I already go to school?_ Raphael thought. This was so sudden, but wasn't it what he'd wanted, to get away from Inspector Vergier? He shouldn't have any trouble slipping out of a stuffy old convent.

"Guess I should get packing," Raphael said, heading into Charlie's room. (Not that he had a lot of stuff to pack…) "Come on, Fondue."

Emma called, "I can still wash your clothes!"

"And you can still come out with us," Charlie said. "Consider it a goodbye dinner."

"It is too late to go out now," her father disagreed. "You should stay in tonight."

"How _old_ do you think I am, old man?"

Raphael was wrapping the journal in Fondue's blanket when Charlie surged into his room… _her_ room.

She demanded, "What did you do to gain my father's disapproval?"

The redhead groaned. "Can't he give me a break—? "

"I mean, what crime did you commit? Don't try to hide anything from me."

Raphael pushed the blanket aside and glared at her. "I broke in to a museum, then, I punched your father when he tried to arrest me."

" _That's it?_ There are plenty of young criminals running around in Paris. Why do my parents care about _you_ so much?"

"Wish I knew," Raphael shrugged. "At least they won't have to worry about me for much longer, and you'll get your room back… Oh, I almost forgot! Fondue peed somewhere, so you might wanna watch your step— "

"You IDIOT!"

* * *

 _ **[[During the game, Urbain can be found standing behind Les Invalides, so I assumed he and Charlie play football somewhere around there. Raphael may be getting shipped off to the convent, but I can promise the Vergier family drama won't end there.]]**_


	3. Chapter 3

Raphael left the Vergiers with a packed lunch of cheese sandwiches, an oversized hoodie and tracksuit bottoms from Charlie, a hug from Emma and a promise she would bring him his own clothes once they were dry.

Raphael was glad he'd get another chance to see her, sappy as that sounded. He was going to miss her. Charlie, too. (Who would he annoy now?) Inspector Vergier... not so much. The feeling must have been mutual, since Vergier barely said a word to him on the way to St. Louré Convent.

A bespectacled man with burgundy hair greeted them on arrival. "Raphael, I presume?"

"And Fondue," Raphael tugged on the leash Fondue had been forced to wear. Fondue bit the leash, trying to drag them in the other direction.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Jean-François, patron to St. Louré Convent," he extended a pale hand for Raphael to shake. "Inspector Vergier has informed me of your... predicament. I despair that one so young would find himself displaced. But I do hope you will feel at home here and we can offer you a brighter future."

Raphael thanked him, though he was sceptical about the future part. He'd planned to kiss the convent goodbye as soon as he got the chance. But what awaited him then? The life of a failed outlaw? An orphan pining for his AWOL parent?

Seemingly satisfied, Vergier nodded and turned Raphael. "If all goes according to plan, our paths should not cross again."

Raphael's farewell was short and sarcastic. "See ya." _Good riddance_. The old windbag deflated and finally went on his way.

"All will go exactly as planned, I'm certain," Jean-François steered Raphael inside by the shoulder. As they headed through the convent's halls, Jean-François spewed a history lesson on St. Louré.

"The convent was founded at the start of the seventeenth century, but it was refurbished in 1800 when Napoleon Bonaparte brought order to Paris... That fountain in the courtyard was one of the many works commissioned by Napoleon... Surely you're aware he was crowned emperor at Notre Dame in 1804. However, did you know he frequently graced this convent with his presence?" _Blah blah blah._

Raphael was surprised there wasn't a shrine dedicated to Napoleon. But the convent was mostly empty, save for the odd Sister going about their duties.

Occasionally, Jean-François would inquire about Raphael's life. Raphael fed him the same story the Vergiers had eaten up: he didn't have any family (except Fondue), he'd been living alone and almost turned to crime when poverty got the better of him.

Jean-François led him and Fondue to the boys' dormitories, of which they were currently the only occupants. It was plain compared to Charlie's room, but on the plus side, there was no paranoid inspector barring the way out.

However, his new host did lay down some ground rules: Breakfast was at seven a.m., lunch was at noon, and dinner was at six p.m. (Fondue was not impressed.) All meals were to be eaten in the dining hall. All residents of the convent were expected to help out, following the chores rota. Anyone who neglected their chores or studies would face dire consequences. (Raphael would be learning history under Jean-François' tutelage— _ugh_.) Leaving the convent without permission was strictly prohibited. Curfew was at nine p.m. sharp.

Raphael opened his mouth. He appreciated the religious order had set rules they had to live by. But _he_ wasn't here for anything like that. (Even Inspector Vergier hadn't forced him to do chores!)

Jean-François didn't sound threatening, but it was clear he wouldn't take any shenanigans from Raphael. Raphael just nodded amiably and Jean-François left him to settle in, promising his lessons and tasks would begin tomorrow.

When the benefactor was gone, Fondue jumped on the bed beside Raphael. Jean-François hadn't thought to give the dog his own sleeping space. Luckily, they still had that blanket from the Vergiers. Fondue whined and Raphael slung his bag over shoulder.

"Don't worry, buddy. We'll find a way outta here, easy as pie."

Off they went, creeping out of the dormitories, past Jean-François' study, past the kitchens, past a room where a choir was practicing, till they reached the courtyard.

Before Raphael could stroll out the front gate, he heard the most beautiful sound. No, 'sound' couldn't possibly describe the sublime celestial _music_.

It was enough to make Raphael turn back and find the source. (Much to Fondue's chagrin.) Entranced, he peered into the window of a small room next to the choir-room. There it was-there _she_ was. A girl of golden hair, playing the violin. She let out one last resounding note and moved to pick up her music book. She glanced up, meeting eyes with Raphael. Her mouth formed a small O, then she smiled at him shyly.

Raphael smiled back.

"Caught you, Peeping Tom!"

Someone dragged him backwards by the hood. Fondue growled. Raphael was twirled around to face a tall girl with tight brown curls.

"I was just listening to her play!" Raphael protested.

"It looked more like _spying_ to me," his captor squinted at him. "Who do think you are?"

"Name's Raphael— I just moved to the convent!"

"Josette, what's going on?" The violinist came outside. She looked between 'Josette' and Raphael in shock. Raphael waved to her.

"You leave her alone," Josette snapped. She explained to the violin girl, "'This guy claims he just moved to the convent…"

"Oh!" The blonde girl nodded. "Jean-François did mention a new boy would be joining us."

"It's true," Raphael insisted when Josette continued glaring at him. "Sorry for sneaking around, it's just you— _your_ music is really pretty."

Violin-girl blushed. "Th-thank you... Where are my manners? I'm Marie, and this is Josette."

Raphael introduced himself and Fondue.

Josette huffed, "Good to meet you. Come on Marie, let's grab some lunch from Renée's.

"That's our favourite cafe on _Rue Rambuteau_ ," Marie explained, inviting Raphael, "Would you like to come with us?"

Raphael said, "That'd be nice, but don't you need to ask permission first?"

Josette gave him a flat look. "Not really. We can do what we like on weekends."

"Okay then..." Had Inspector Vergier warned Jean-François to be extra strict with him? Not that it mattered. He and Fondue would have lunch with the girls and then be on their merry way.

Suddenly, he remembered the sandwiches Emma had made him. That, and her promise to drop off his clean clothes—

His blazer and his trousers. Where had he left that coin again?

 _Uh oh._

Marie and Josette watched in bemusement as he emptied everything out of his bag. _Sandwiches, toothbrush, comb, blanket, journal…_

His father's coin, his only clue, was nowhere to be found.

* * *

Raphael's swift departure from the Vergier residence was met with sadness. The apartment seemed too quiet all of a sudden. Charlie returned to her bedroom. Emma busied herself drying Raphael's blazer and trousers, the only reminders that he had disrupted their livelihoods.

Inspector Vergier was glad— no, _relieved_ that the boy was gone. One less troublemaker to worry about…

Vergier shook his head. He could not think like that. It was his duty to bring all Parisians to justice, troublemakers included. Had he been too quick to dismiss Raphael?

He voiced his concerns to Emma and she assured him, "No, you did the right thing. If you hadn't reached Raphael, he might still be thieving on the streets."

"I could not have done it without your help…"

She folded Raphael's clean clothes, smiling. "Everyone needs help sometimes."

Mollified, Vergier smiled back... until he noticed the golden coin on top of the tumble drier. He examined the coin, eyes widening as he recognised the mark it possessed. The mark linking the string of thefts from the Louvre. The mark from the Mystère Incident.

Hastily, he asked Emmy how it had gotten here. Emma said she had found the coin at the back of the drier.

Was this another warning? Why, then, had it been amongst Raphael's clothing? Where did Raphael fit into all of this?

Even when Vergier was not looking for trouble, leads still seemed to fall into his hands. This coin could be the key to tracking the perpetrators of the Mystère Incident, and the one named Graf. As long as they remained at large, their threats would be looming over Vergier's head. But if he acted now, his family and Paris would be that much safer. It was a paradox, a puzzle...

Vergier studied the code on the coin again. Fortunately, he knew a professor who could solve this one.

* * *

His plans for lunch and escape put on hold, Raphael paced the dormitory till Emma arrived with his clothes. It was a relief to see her. However, he was dismayed to discover his trouser pockets were empty. He asked Emma as vaguely as possible if she'd seen a gold coin with a weird symbol on it.

"Yes, I did find it, but then it went missing. Paul was asking me about it— I wonder if he picked it up?" She bit her lip at Raphael's look of alarm. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise how important it was to you. I'll check with Charlie and Paul as soon as I get home."

Charlie's mother reached out as if she wanted to comfort him, but she patted Fondue's head instead. She turned to leave, bypassing Jean-François at the door.

"Pardon me, Madame…?"

"Emma Vergier, and it's no problem."

Raphael frowned as Jean-François let her through. How much had he heard?

"Lost something, my boy?" (A lot, apparently.)

Raphael shrugged. "An old coin."

"Perhaps if you were more specific, I could help you? Does your coin bear this crest by any chance?" Jean-François revealed a pocket watch. A spiky crescent moon, a triangle and a small sun glinted on its golden surface.

"That mark..." Raphael gasped. "Where did you get that?"

"My curiosity was piqued when I heard you describe the coin to Mrs Vergier. I didn't wish to pry, but I thought you would be eager to see this," he rubbed the mark on the watch. "I received it as a parting gift from an organisation. This is their seal."

Raphael swallowed. These were the answers he'd sought for a year. But could Jean-François be trusted?

Jean-François beat him to the million dollar question. "Your father's name is Isaac, correct?" He snickered at Raphael's stunned silence. "You do resemble him to a tea."

Running a hand through his hair, Raphael said, "Did my father join your organisation?"

"Indeed. He began dealing with us thirteen years ago, selling forged paintings through the Black Market."

"It was to pay the doctors— I got really sick after my mother died…"

A hum. "I see... He never mentioned that."

Raphael's face fell. "Did he mention me at all?"

"Don't be too quick to judge him. Perhaps he feared the organisation's enemies would target you. That may be precisely why he left you the coin, so you could find his trusted colleagues should anything happen to him."

" _Has_ something happened to him?" Raphael whispered.

"I can't say, unfortunately. I retired before he disappeared." Jean-François smiled at Raphael, "However, I remain in contact with the organisation. If we can find out what your father was working on, we might find him."

* * *

 **[[** _ **Unfortunately, that 'professor' Vergier was referring to isn't Hershel Layton. I've already written one PL/RT crossover, I'm not doing another anytime soon.**_ **]]**


	4. Chapter 4

Jean-François hadn't intended to bring Marie into the plot so early on, but Leonard Bonar and the chevaliers were growing restless. (It also wouldn't be long before Isaac discovered his son's involvement.) Anyway, Marie was content to accompany him and Raphael on a 'fieldtrip' to Notre Dame. The location appeared on her violin when it resonated with the seal from his pocket watch.

"The Dragon Crown sleeps at the foot of the Holy Mother, lulled by the princess of the moon," Jean-François recited as the three of them approached the cathedral. There was an odd lack of tourists for this time in the afternoon thanks to the chevaliers stalking around. They were intimidating, if anything. Yet, they failed to capture a small canine. How would they fare with the Vergier family? Inspector Vergier had Raphael's coin. He was one step closer to uncovering the meaning of the seal. All the more reason to escalate the organization's plans.

"The journal never mentioned anything about a Dragon Crown," Raphael muttered. He was just bitter because his mutt had been left with Marie's friend at the convent. Jean-François was glad to be rid of the dog— it caused enough trouble yesterday, running off with Isaac's diary.

"Of course not," Jean-François dismissed. "It's a legendary artefact that has been sought after for years. One doesn't discuss these things lightly."

Obliviously optimistic, Marie tried to raise Raphael's spirits. "We'll find it. We just need to work out what the riddle means by 'princess of the moon'."

"That's where your talents are required, Marie."

Inside the cathedral, they came to a stained-glass window of the Mother Mary. Jean-François said a silent prayer; for his emperor, for his country, for victory. He had been chosen to restore France to its former glory. There wouldn't be a pauper left in Paris when he succeeded.

Plastering on a smile, he turned to his protégé. "Why don't you play Moon Princess here?"

Raphael interrupted, "Moon Princess?"

"It's the song my mother left for me," Marie explained somberly, "along with my violin. I've practiced it every day in the hope that she will recognize me."

Elizabeth's sentiments had cost her daughter's identity. After discovering Marie's true heritage, it didn't take Jean-François long to learn where Elizabeth had hidden her. Now he just needed to reunite mother and daughter; to be certain, to strike fear into Elizabeth's heart. His cousin couldn't avoid him forever.

"You're an orphan too?" Raphael exclaimed.

Jean-François tutted at his lack of tact and touched Marie's shoulder. "Fear not, _ma chérie._ There… is a chance I have found your mother. I didn't want to tell you too soon in case I was mistaken, but I can't put it off any longer—"

Marie hugged him with a cry, "Thank you! Oh, thank you, Jean-François! I can't wait to see her!"

A bolt of envy jarred Jean-François. After everything he had done for her, was she really so eager to return to Elizabeth? The little ingrate. Wait— what did he care? She and Elizabeth were nothing more than pawns. He disengaged himself from Marie and said, "I will arrange for you to meet her immediately."

Raphael had the decency to congratulate Marie. Elated, Marie started to play Moon Princess. Despite a few slipups— either from her excitement or embarrassment in front of Raphael— the stained-glass window reverberated to the sound of her violin. Jean-François asked Raphael to press the reacting panels and a secret compartment was revealed.

Reverently, Jean-François pulled out Napoleon's lost treasure— the Dragon Crown. His old goat of a teacher had lied. It really _did_ exist.

" _That's_ what he was searching for?" Raphael made a face. "It looks… broken."

"It's not the complete crown," Jean-François rebuffed. "We still need two more treasures: The Queen's Pendant and the Cross of the Sun King."

* * *

"Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Professor Alàn."

The small bearded man motioned for Vergier to take a seat before his office desk. "It's no problem, Inspector. How can I help?"

Vergier placed the coin (It didn't really belong to Raphael, did it?) on the desk. Alàn inspected it closely, fingers quivering as he adjusted his glasses. "This is the mark you described to me after the incident, isn't it?" Vergier nodded. "Seeing it now, I'm sure I recognize it…" Alàn retrieved a moth-eaten book from a low shelf and read for a minute. "Aha! Both the coin and the symbol were created in ancient Babylonia." He pointed to each section of the symbol respectively, "The sun represents _awakening_. The triangle is tricky, but I think it represents _restoration_. And the moon represents _eternal slumber_. Together, these three form a spell."

"A _spell?"_ Vergier repeated. "For what exactly?"

"For tampering with the dead," Alàn said gravely. "To awaken a dead body, restore it fully to life, and lay it to rest once more. That's the cycle."

"That is insane." The Mystère Organization were capable of thievery and threats, but _resurrection?_ Was that why they stole Napoleon's casket, because they believed the emperor could be brought back? An organization of necrophiliacs, that was what they were.

Still, a menacing organization…

Screams erupted around the university. Vergier leapt to his feet. Alàn wrung his hands together. "Please, don't let it be them again…"

"Who?" Vergier heard footsteps. People fleeing in fear. Someone pursuing them.

"Forgive me, Inspector. You're not the only one who came to question me."

Vergier's eyes widened. "Have you been consorting with the Mystère Organization?" he demanded. "Did you tell them the meaning of mark?"

"N-no…! I mean, yes, but I didn't have a choice. They said they would harm my students-" The professor winced as a young woman shrieked somewhere outside. Vergier withdrew his handgun, but Alàn whispered, "The Chevaliers Diabolique— the organization's henchmen— won't be pleased to find you here. You need to escape and put a stop to them." Alàn hurried back to his shelf and grabbed a glass jar seemingly filled with dust.

As he was prying the lid off, the door burst open. Three brutes sporting silver armor and red capes stormed inside. (Vergier assumed these were the ones who invaded his own office.) One 'chevalier' stabbed a finger at Alàn. "Professor. How dare you expose our secrets. For your act of betrayal, neither you nor your students will be spared. As for you, Inspector, you will come with us."

Vergier growled. Alàn simply yawned, "I'm sorry. Can't this wait? I'm feeling a little drowsy…" He stretched his arms above his head and dropped the jar. Its silver contents exploded around the office.

"Don't let them escape!" A chevalier roared.

Vergier couldn't risk shooting at them– their armor might deflect his bullets, and what if the professor was hit? He reached for Alàn through the dust cloud, ready to drag him outside. But Alàn cried, "I've got the coin!" and the chevaliers clanked towards him. Alàn was not an idiot. He had given Vergier the chance to get out. The chance to save his precious students; Paris's future.

A sword was drawn. Something heavy hit the floor.

Biting his tongue, Vergier bolted from the room. Alàn's sacrifice would not be in vain. Vergier would contact the Constabulary and they would come to liberate the university. Could his colleagues be trusted? Could _anyone_ be trusted now? He would have fought off the chevaliers himself, but he had to get home. To check on Emma and Charlotte. The organization was after him. Why would they hesitate to hurt his family?

As he ran, he frantically tried to phone them. Emma wasn't answering. Neither was Charlotte. Vergier prayed she was just ignoring him.

He burst into their apartment, bellowing their names. No response. Emma wasn't sat reading. Charlotte wasn't in her room.

Only an intruder stood waiting for the inspector.

"Where are my wife and child?" Vergier rasped.

The red-haired man replied, "Where is Raphael?"


	5. Chapter 5

"Tell me where I can find my son."

Vergier gawked at the red-haired man… Raphael's father. The inspector snapped himself out of his stupor. "First you tell me where my family is."

He huffed, "I really don't know."

 _"_ _C'est des conneries!_ " Vergier cursed. "I know you are affiliated with them. You gave Raphael that coin with the mark, didn't you?"

"And the organization attacked your family when _you_ took it."

Vergier felt a stab of guilt in his gut, but he ignored it. "Do not try to pin this on me. You should never have abandoned Raphael."

"I went to painstaking lengths to keep him hidden." (That explained Raphael's lack of documentation.) "But now, thanks to you, Graf has my son."

That made Vergier hesitate. "You… are not Graf?"

"It's a noble title belonging to Jean-François." Raphael's father frowned. "You pushed Raphael right into his hands, along with your wife and child." Vergier grimaced and Raphael's father reasoned, "Arguing is getting us nowhere. Our loved ones are at the mercy of Graf. I can't guarantee yours are being kept alive, but whatever the case, there is a way to bring them back."

Vergier breathed, "The mark…" He had dismissed the idea of the organization resurrecting Napoleon. It was impossible, unnatural and immoral. But it might be his only chance of seeing Charlotte and Emma again.

Raphael's father nodded. "Help me find Raphael and I will show you the spell."

* * *

"Sanctuary! _Sanctuary!_ " Charlie wasn't often one to scream at the top of her lungs or run for her life. But she was willing to bear the dent in her pride because she was being pursued by a pack of knights. Yes, apparently knights still existed. Whenever she heard about them in history, Charlie held a high respect for the chivalrous protectors of old. The ones chasing her were _far_ from chivalrous. If only she had brought her football, they would be French toast.

She banged her fists on the front doors of St. Louré Convent. "SANCTUARY!" (It worked for the Hunchback of Notre Dame.)

Her banging was answered by a brunette girl. "Alright, alright, what's the racket about—?"

Charlie squirmed past her and slammed the doors.

 _"Woeuf!"_

Before she could catch her breath, a familiar canine jumped up at her. She never thought she would be so happy to see him. "Fondue! Where's Raphael? I need to speak to him. It's urgent." Fondue cocked his head to the side. Charlie realised she was questioning a dog.

The girl who let her in lifted an eyebrow. "You know Raphael?"

"Do _you_ know where he is?"

"He's out with my friend and the convent's benefactor. No idea where they went. I just got dumped with dog-sitting duty," she grumbled. "Why are you so eager to see him?"

Charlie frowned. "As far as I'm aware, he was the last person in contact with my mother when she visited the convent earlier. I'd like to confirm she is safe, considering there is a band of lunatics after me."

Said-lunatics were now trying to break inside. Fondue released a low growl. "Follow me," the girl hissed, pointing down a hall. "I'm Josette, by the way. Thanks for asking."

Josette led Charlie and Fondue into a small yet regal looking room and locked the door. "This is the benefactor, Jean-François's study. We can hide in here and try find out where he took Raphael and Marie."

It was meticulously clean compared to Charlie's father's office. Jean-François owned enough books to rival the Paris Archives, all perfectly shelved against the walls. Not a single speck of dust tarnished his red velvet curtains, his tapestry carpet or his numerous antiques. If only he had left out some kind of clue regarding his whereabouts...

Charlie searched his mahogany desk and happened upon a locked drawer.

"Knowing how meticulous Jean-François is, I'll bet he has a spare key somewhere," Josette said. She went to study the shelves and chose a novel, _Notre-Dame de Paris._ (What a coincidence.) The novel was hollow inside, containing a small silver key.

"You found it? That was quick!"

Josette shrugged. "Let's just say I wasn't the calmest kid. Jean-François called me in here a lot for lectures and I picked up on some things—" She unlocked the desk drawer and pulled out a photograph. "—Like his fixation with Marie."

Jean-François kept a picture of the child he cared for. That seemed innocent enough. Peering into the drawer, Charlie discovered more photos. One of Jean-François standing beside a silver-haired woman, one of a blurry brown-haired man and one of Raphael. Maybe Jean-François had received it before Raphael moved to the convent.

But why was there one of _Charlie's_ family? This was the photo her mother always carried. Was Jean-François responsible for her absence? Had he sent those knights after Charlie? What about her father?

Charlie whipped out her phone. (Of all the times for her to turn it off…) There were fifteen missed calls from her father. She rang him back, but his phone was dead. Her mother's was still the same. For a moment, Charlie felt a stab of panic. It was no wonder her father was so anxious yesterday evening. He _knew_ they were being targeted. She'd snapped at him. And now her parents were in trouble.

"Are you okay?" Josette asked.

Charlie swallowed, nodding. She was going to save them. First, she needed to find Jean-François and force the truth out of him. She would warn Raphael and Marie while she was there.

Her plans were interrupted by a bark from Fondue. He dragged something else out of the drawer and dumped it on the floor. It was a book titled 'The Sun King'. He sniffed the book, wagged his tail and woeufed at Charlie.

Josette realized, "He must have Jean-François's scent."

"Fondue, you're a genius!" Charlie held her family's photo under his nose. "Can you smell my mother as well?" He sniffed it and whined. "No? Just Jean-François?" (His slimy hands had probably been all over it.)

"He can still lead us to Jean-François," Josette reassured her. "We'll make him tell us where your mother is and we'll save Marie."

 _"Woeuf!"_

" _And_ Raphael," she added.

Charlie shook her head. "You stay here. I'll go with Fondue."

"But—"

"There are other people inside the convent, aren't there? Someone has to get them out before those knights break in."

"You're right," Josette eventually sighed. "Marie would never forgive me if I left them behind." She clenched her fists. "Just promise me that you'll protect Marie… and pulverize Jean-François."

"Promise." Charlie stole a letter opener from Jean-François's desk. Shaped like a golden-hilted sword, it would make a suitable weapon. She used it to cut off her ponytail.

Her enemies wouldn't see her coming.

* * *

 _I miss Fondue,_ Raphael thought. He may have just met the dog a couple of days ago (being chased by a _cat)_ but he couldn't help moping. Fondue had been his only company for a while, as much as Raphael called him pathetic and complained he ate all the food. He even threw the little guy out before his failed heist. Still, Fondue followed him to Constabulary HQ. Fondue wasn't a burden and he wouldn't be abandoned. He was a fighter, just like Raphael. They needed each other.

Jean-François didn't get it. Raphael wanted to swing by the convent to collect Fondue, but apparently pets weren't 'permitted' at the Palace of Versailles. (A gentleman with a poodle passed them as Jean-François said this.)

Raphael corrected him, "Fondue's my _partner_." Jean-François frowned as they went through Versailles's front gates and Raphael bit his tongue. _Keep it cool._ He only had to stick around till that crown was assembled. His job was to locate the Cross of the Sun King while Jean-François introduced Marie to Duchess Elizabeth and asked her about the Queen's Pendant. As soon as they were done, Raphael would swipe the crown and lure his father out of hiding.

Marie wished him good luck in the entry hall. Raphael smiled. For all of this trouble, at least he got to spend more time with her. "Thanks. I hope things work out with your mother."

She hugged her violin. "Me too."

"Hey, don't sweat it," he snapped his fingers and winked at her. "She'll know it's you. Only you can play like an angel!"

"That sounds… really cheesy," Marie let out a giggle, "but it's sweet of you to say." His cheeks grew warm, but his smile grew wider.

Of course, Jean-François chose that _exact_ moment to tear them apart. "Come along, Marie. The Duchess will be arriving soon. Raphael, you should start by talking to the palace guide." Raphael spat his tongue out when Jean-François turned away, taking Marie to the Reception Gallery.

That was enough fooling around. Where could the guide be…? Raphael checked the map of Versailles on the hallway wall. The Gallery of Angels seemed like a good place to begin. In there, Raphael was mostly met with musicians practicing under the light of chandeliers. None of them had seen the guide. Next he tried Chapel Court, but it was too crowded to question anyone for long. If only Fondue was here, maybe he could have tracked the guide down…

Dragging his feet back to the entry hall, Raphael nearly bumped into an elegant lady and her butler.

"Be careful where you are going, young man," the butler cautioned. His mistress leveled Raphael with a stare.

"Um, excuse me," Raphael stammered. "I was just looking for the palace guide."

The butler said, "You may find him in the Hall of Hercules on the second floor."

"R-right, thanks!" Raphael rushed upstairs. Something about that lady's gaze caught him off guard. Her eyes were so cold, almost the same color as Marie's… Could she be the duchess? He'd be able to see her meeting Marie if he hurried up and spoke to the guide.

Easier said than done— there was some kind of hubbub in the Hall of Hercules.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave," a man in a smart suit and tie said. "This room is reserved for members of the orchestra."

The person he was talking to, a _knight,_ wasn't pleased. "This palace rightfully belongs to Emperor Napoleon. I am here on his orders."

"I don't care if you're part of a historical movement or a comedy act. You won't be staying on my watch..." The man trailed off when the knight unsheathed a sword.

Raphael ran between the two of them. "Whoa, whoa, let's not be too hasty! So, you're a fan of Napoleon? I know a guy you'd get along with— he's just down in the dining room. You should hang out together." The knight glared at him for a moment before moving out to the Hall of Mirrors. Raphael whistled. "Can't believe that actually worked."

The man sighed. " _Merci beaucoup."_

"We should probably warn the palace guide about that wacko. Do you know if he's in here?"

"That would be me," the guide smiled, tapping his golden badge. "How can I help?" Raphael explained his predicament. The guide had never seen the cross inside the palace, but he gave Raphael permission to search the gardens with the accompaniment of a guard.

When they were outside, Raphael heard the faint melody of Moon Princess. Marie must have been playing for her mother!

The guard grunted, "Beats the din those frogs make."

"Frogs?" Raphael said.

"Just over there, see the golden frogs on the Latona Fountain?" He pointed to the dazzling fountain and Raphael nodded. "When people touch the frogs, it takes hours to shut them up. I've requested to have them removed, but they're linked to a story in Roman and Greek mythology. The goddess Latona gave birth to Apollo and Dianna, then she turned some nearby villagers to frogs. I wish she hadn't bothered."

"Apollo and Dianna, huh…?" Raphael's father once told him Apollo was the god of the sun and Diana was the goddess of the moon. (There was the link to Moon Princess.) It was no wonder he was so obsessed with Greek mythology if he was after the Dragon Crown.

Raphael memorized the frogs' croaky song, the old amaryllis nursery rhyme, and sang it back. Sure enough, the frogs shimmered with the colors of the rainbow. The middle frog opened its mouth, allowing Raphael to access a golden cross emblazoned with a sun. No doubt about it, this was the Cross of the Sun King. Now he just needed to take the rest of the Dragon Crown from Jean-François.

Up in the Reception Gallery, Jean-François was waiting for him. He was holding the Dragon Crown, but a diamond— the Queen's Pendant— had been added to it.

"You took your time," Jean-François sneered at Raphael. "Do you have the cross?"

"Yeah, I've got it." Raphael looked around the room. "Where're Marie and the Duchess?"

"The Duchess denied Marie was her daughter, even after hearing Moon Princess. Marie fled the room in despair."

Raphael scowled. "And you didn't try to comfort her?"

"I haven't the foggiest idea where she went." Jean-François threw out his hand to Raphael. "Give me the cross and go after her. I need her with me."

"You _used_ her to play Moon Princess and get the pendant from the Duchess," Raphael growled, furious that he had also been fooled. "No way am I giving you the cross, but you can bet I'll find Marie and tell her the truth." He ran out of the gallery.

"Good luck, my boy!" Jean-François jeered behind him. "Without the crown and my help, you'll never find what your father was looking for. You'll never find _him!"_

* * *

 **[[ _Do not look up the meaning of '_** ** _C'est des conneries!'. It's not worth it_** **.**

 ** _I feel like I just wrote the script to Finding Nemo with the amount of characters running around searching for other people.]]_**


	6. Chapter 6

Vergier had never imagined himself working alongside a criminal. Perhaps 'criminal' was not the correct term— he currently did not have any proof against Raphael's father. Yes, he was familiar with the organisation and Graf/ Jean-François, but to Vergier's knowledge, his only felonies were forging documents and giving Raphael the coin. Both he claimed were in order to protect Raphael. Vergier believed this at the very least.

The two of them had formed a temporary alliance to take down Graf and save their families. (How long this would last, Vergier was uncertain.) Raphael's father thought they should start looking at St. Louré. They might encounter Raphael or Graf there.

"Give me your phone," Raphael's father said as they raced to the convent. "The organization will use it to track you down."

"Do you really expect me to believe that?"

"Do you really want to take the risk?" The man's green eyes narrowed. "I also don't want you contacting the Constabulary." He was upfront, if anything.

"D'accord," Vergier huffed, handing over his phone. "But you must give me your name in return."

Vergier assumed he would dodge the subject like Raphael. Instead, he answered, "Isaac Laurent."

He could easily be lying… or not, for when they reached the convent, someone called, "Isaac?" It was a chevalier, who stared at Isaac and Vergier. "What are you doing with that inspector?"

With Alàn's death still fresh in mind— and the fear that Emma and Charlie had met a similar fate— Vergier gripped his gun. Isaac seized his wrist and asked the chevalier seamlessly, "Where has Graf gotten to? I was told to bring the inspector before him."

"You would know if Graf trusted you enough."

"My orders come directly from the emperor," Isaac argued.

"Liar!" The chevalier accused. "You care nothing for the emperor or our cause. You're just using the organization for your own means."

"Now would be a good time to shoot them," Isaac hissed as more chevaliers swarmed out of the convent.

However, Vergier was shocked by the sight of a small figure fighting off the chevaliers. "Out of my way!" she roared. Aided by a dagger and a dog, his fourteen-year-old daughter was defending the convent. She clashed blades with the knights while Fondue bit their capes, pulling them down.

 _Charlotte was alive._ Why was he just standing here? Vergier rushed into the fray, shooting the chevaliers' exposed eyes. While they were blinded, he grabbed Charlotte and carried her away from the convent's courtyard.

Charlotte stopped struggling when she realized it was him. "Papa! You're alright!"

"Did the chevaliers hurt you?" His brow furrowed at her missing ponytail. "Did they chop off your hair?"

"That was me. I was going undercover to find you and Mama. I take it you haven't seen her?"

"No…" Vergier's relief faded. Only half of his family was safe.

Fondue trotted alongside them, content to follow Vergier for once. But the canine froze when he noticed Isaac. Charlotte squinted at him. "You're Raphael's father. I recognize you from Jean-François's photos."

"Call me Isaac. Any sign of Raphael in there?"

"Jean-François has taken him and his friend somewhere," Charlotte explained. "Fondue can track them down."

"Then let's hurry."

Vergier had to admit, Fondue was as capable as any police dog. The sun was just beginning to set as he brought them to the Palace of Versailles.

"Of course," Isaac breathed. "He's already piecing the Dragon Crown together."

Before Vergier could ask what he meant, they spotted people streaming from Versailles's front gates. The palace was in pandemonium.

Charlie stopped an old gentleman and he stammered, "There are knights c-claiming to be N-Napoleon's forces. They kidnapped the Duchess!"

Isaac frowned. "Elizabeth?" He looked at Vergier and they hurried inside.

"All will bow before the newly restored Emperor Napoleon," a chevalier boomed in the entry hall.

"Have they already restored Napoleon's body to life?" Vergier breathed to Isaac.

"The emperor has been awakened, but they haven't completed the second part of the spell. He can't be at his most powerful form yet. The chevaliers are just trying to spread fear amongst the masses—" Isaac broke off as Graf sauntered down the stairs, flanked by two more chevaliers. "There he is."

Vergier, Charlotte and Fondue dealt with the chevaliers. Isaac punched Graf in the face, shattering one side of his glasses.

"What lies have you told my son?"

Graf covered his injured eye and glared at Isaac with the other. "Ah… Isaac. I see you've teamed up with Paris's finest. Do tell, how is your wife faring?"

"Where. Is. She." Vergier ground out. "And Raphael?"

"Both of them have been picked up by the chevaliers." Graf waved a phone under their noses. "I just received a call—"

Isaac snatched the phone from him, dialed the latest number and put it on loud speaker.

A voice rumbled on the other side. _"What is it, Graf?"_

In the background, they could hear the cries of a young girl. _"…N-no, let us go! Raphael, wake up! P-please…"_

"That must be Marie," Charlotte gasped. She pointed her sword at Graf's throat when he tried shouting to the speaker.

"Did you hear that, Bonar?" Isaac casually addressed the speaker. "I've got Graf…" He removed something from his captive's pocket. "…and the Dragon Crown. If you want to see either of them again, you'll release my son."

"The same applies for Marie, Emma and the Duchess," Vergier added.

There was a moment of silence before Bonar said, _"Meet us at Les Invalides at midnight."_ Then he hung up.

"Who was that?" Vergier wondered. "And can we trust him?"

Isaac nodded. "That was Leonard Bonar, leader of the Chevaliers Diabolique. He'll do anything to get hold of the Dragon Crown."

Charlie regarded the artefact in Isaac's hands. "What's so important about this crown?"

"It's a key to the emperor's treasure. Isn't that right, Graf?"

"As soon as the treasure is revealed, you'll be sorry for crossing the Mystère Organization," Graf spat. "I don't know what Napoleon sees in you—"

Isaac kicked him in the stomach.

* * *

 _Am I… dead?_ Emma thought when she awoke to darkness. Lifting her heavy head, she pressed her hands against a cold stone floor. Not dead then, just disorientated. _Where is this?_ She would have used her mobile phone as a light, but her bag was missing. And so was her favourite photo…

On her knees, she fumbled through the blackness until she bashed into something headfirst. (Ouch.) Her shaking fingers curled around solid bars.

"H-hello?" Emma shouted, pulling hard against the bars. "Can anyone hear me? Please, let me out!" The only reply was the echo of her own voice. Emma struggled to stifle the sob that followed.

Trapped. She was trapped. She couldn't remember how she ended up here, but Paul had instructed her on how to react in a situation like this.

Always, _always_ remain calm. She took a deep breath and touched her temples. There was a nasty bump– probably a blow from her kidnappers— but at least she was alert now.

She was still blind in the dark, but this along with the chill suggested she was below ground.

If Paul was out there— _please, let him and Charlie be alright_ — he would be tearing Paris apart trying to find her (assuming she was still in Paris). What if a ransom was demanded for her freedom? How far would he go to save her?

She wondered _who_ would kidnap her. Of course, her husband had dealt with plenty of criminals during his career. Some managed to escape being put behind bars, but why would they seek revenge at this point in time?

Paul had been frantic (more so than usual) since Raphael joined their family…

Emma shook away the accusatory thought. Raphael was a child— he couldn't be responsible for anything. However, whether it was through Emma's intervention or not, he'd gotten involved. Now Raphael, Charlie and Paul were all at risk while she was sat here in a cell. Emma hugged her knees, trying to hold back tears.

 _Ne perds pas espoir._ Don't give up hope. That's what she would tell Charlie during a tough match, or a student faced with a difficult task. Look for the light in the dark…

Emma blinked. There was a light approaching her prison. The flame of a torch flickered along the walls, revealing rotted skulls. It looked like she was in the Paris Catacombs.

The torchbearer was dressed as a… a knight. There was another dragging a woman behind them. Emma's hope fizzled out when she realized they weren't rescuers. Sounding a lot bolder than she felt, she demanded, "Who are you people? Why are you doing this?"

The torchbearer opened the cell door and shook the flame in her direction. "Don't try to escape," he ordered. "Unless you want to get burned to a crisp."

Emma complied, but she caught the other woman when she was thrown inside. The knights locked the door and left them. Emma studied her new cellmate in the retreating torchlight. With her grey hair and her gracile form, she appeared a good few years older than Emma.

The woman stirred in her arms and Emma asked, "Are you alright?"

A gloved hand touched Emma's cheek. "Z-Zoé… Is that you?"

Emma shook her head, but of course the woman couldn't see properly. "No, sorry. I'm Emma. Can you tell me your name?"

There was a sigh of relief… or maybe it was regret. The woman sat up straight; her tone became laced with suspicion. "It's Elizabeth. You should already know that if you are a spy for the Chevaliers Diabolique." (Was she referring to those knights?)

Emma assured her, "I-I'm not a spy. I'm a prisoner just like you."

"Hmph. Those brutes ambushed me at the Palace of Versailles."

"Do you know _why_?" Emma pressed. She was beginning to feel like a broken record.

Elizabeth's answer was unhelpfully cryptic. "They believe I have a part to play in their absurd plans."

Emma huffed. It seemed Elizabeth was also in the dark. Literally. "Well, I don't know what those plans are, but I'd rather not stick around to find out."

"And just how do you plan to escape?"

"If we work together, one of us can distract the guards—"

"Even if you managed to evade those two guards, there is an army of chevaliers waiting beyond this cell," Elizabeth said tiredly. She talked as if all hope was lost. Emma had felt the same moments ago, but now she wasn't alone.

"We can't give up. We need to fight back—"

Elizabeth cut her off, "My companion was beaten senseless when I tried to flee from the palace. I won't put anymore lives at risk."

"There are lives _already_ at risk!" Emma snapped. "My husband! My daughter…!"

Elizabeth's voice softened, "I don't know why the chevaliers took you, but you can't be as important to them as I am. Someone will surely come to free you. Just be patient."

Emma found some comfort in her words, even if they were condescending. She slumped against the cell wall and closed her eyes. Maybe when she woke up, she would be with her family again…

"What is that?" Elizabeth asked.

Emma realised she had been humming. "It's… just one of my favourite songs."

"Not that," Elizabeth said, her eyes gleaming blue in the light.

In the _light?_

Emma gasped and looked behind her. On the wall, there was the outline of a glowing orange sun. "W-what is it?"

"It appeared when you produced that song," Elizabeth whispered. "Song of Awakening. How did you know it?"

"It's from a ballet I saw with my family years ago…"

Elizabeth swallowed. "Starring Zoé Laurent?"

Emma nodded— she recognized the name of the lead dancer. Was Zoé a friend of Elizabeth's? Before Emma could ask, Elizabeth went to inspect the sun, touching its place on the wall. Emma's eyes widened as the wall rumbled and slid open.

"I once had a friend with a knack for constructing secret passages," Elizabeth recalled. "He must have put this one here in case he was ever imprisoned by his 'accomplices'." She gestured for Emma to go through the door. "There's no time to waste. Our daughters are in danger."

* * *

 **[[ _Sorry for the lack of Raphael this chapter. There'll be more from our dorky dancer next time, I swear!]_ ] **


	7. Chapter 7

_"_ _Papa, wait! What do you mean you aren't coming back?"_

 _"Forgive me, Raphael."_

 _"_ _Where are you going? Don't leave me!"_

His father never looked back. He entered the car and it drove away.

Raphael gave chase, ploughing his feet through the snow. " _PAPA!"_ He was all Raphael had. He couldn't – _wouldn't—_ go without a reason or a goodbye. He had to stop…

The car swerved to a halt on the icy road, tires screeching. _Now's my chance!_ Raphael caught up with the car. His eyes widened when he realised the vehicle had hit someone. A ballerina with a broken neck. Blood was seeping into the snow.

Father forgotten, he fell to the ballerina's side. She managed to smile at him and said in Marie's voice, _"Raphael!"_

* * *

"Ma…rie?" Raphael moaned and opened his eyes. A human skull was hanging in front of his face. "W-what the—?" He tried to scramble away, but he was chained against a stone pillar.

Marie gasped from the other side. "Thank goodness you're awake!"

Through a line of crackling torches stood two by two, Raphael could make out a gloomy green room. "H-how'd we end up here?"

"I was attacked when I left the palace. You came to rescue me, but then they b-beat you up!"

The chain trembled around Raphael's waist as Marie whimpered. Raphael winced. "I'm okay now. Who're 'they'—?"

"We are the Chevaliers Diabolique." A man strode out of the shadows. "And I am Napoleon Bonaparte, Emperor of France."

Raphael glared up at 'Napoleon'. He kind of resembled the knight from the Hall of Hercules, except his helmet was gold and his cape was purple. Raphael quipped, "Was _Napoleon Dynamite_ already taken?"

The self-proclaimed emperor swept past him, laughing. "Ho ho, I see you are a jester, just like Isaac."

"What do you know about my father?!"

Napoleon moved to Marie's end of the pillar. "Here we have the great Heir of Babylonia, after all of those years Graf spent grooming you…"

"G-Graf?" Marie squeaked.

" _Jean-François,"_ Raphael growled. "He must be in cahoots with these guys." (It figured since he had a Napoleon fetish.)

"N-no," Marie asserted shakily. "Jean-François would never—"

"Such _naïveté_. Fear not, _ma petite chérie_. Your time will come as soon as we have the Dragon Crown." Napoleon clapped his hands and a chevalier appeared.

Raphael strained his neck to glare at them. "Don't touch her!"

The chevalier simply placed something on the floor beside Marie. She exclaimed, "My violin!"

"As long as you play Moon Princess, I will let you and your mother go."

 _"Mother?"_ Marie and Raphael echoed.

The chevalier muttered to Napoleon and the two of them hurried away.

After a few minutes, Raphael said, "Do you think he meant Duchess Elizabeth?"

"It doesn't matter." Marie sniffed. "I won't do anything he asks— I won't leave you here."

"Th-thanks." He fidgeted. A smile crossed his face as he recalled the one trick left up his sleeve… or rather, in his pocket. "But you don't need to risk everything for me. Whatever these chevaliers are trying to accomplish, it won't work without the full Dragon Crown." His confidence plummeted when he felt that his pocket was empty. (Man, he _had_ to stop losing things like that.) " _Not again!_ They must have taken the cross from me!" Raphael sighed in defeat. "Sorry, Marie..."

"So, you've given up, just like that?"

 _"Charlie?"_ Raphael gasped.

"Wo- woeuf!"

"And Fondue!" Raphael laughed as Fondue attacked his face with licks. "Y-you found us!"

 _"Tais-toi,_ " Charlie hissed, following Fondue over to their pillar. "Do you want the chevaliers to hear you?" She glanced around the room before she started hacking at Raphael's chains with a mini sword.

He whistled at her hair. "Nice pixie cut."

"I hope it's not too _girly_."

"No, it looks good on you." He informed Marie, "Charlie's my—"

"Don't you dare say 'adoptive sister'," Charlie snorted. "Your father, Isaac, is distracting the chevaliers with my father in Les Invalides. Do you know where my mother and the Duchess are being held?"

His father was _here._ Raphael was so stunned that Charlie had to repeat her question.

"N-no." Raphael shook his head. How could they drag _Emma_ into this _?_ "I had no idea they'd gotten your mother too—"

Marie breathed, "Someone's coming."

Charlie and Fondue dashed behind another pillar. Two chevaliers approached Raphael.

"Just the boy," one of them grunted.

From the corner of his eye, Raphael saw Fondue gnashing his teeth and Charlie gripping her sword. Could they handle two chevaliers? What if they raised the alarm? They still needed to free Marie, Emma and the Duchess. Raphael could buy them some time. And he might see his father…

"Don't worry about me," Raphael said— both for Marie and Charlies' sake— when the chevaliers unchained him.

"Be safe, Raphael…" Marie's prayers faded behind him as he was pushed out of the green room and through a tunnel lined with skulls. Their eyeless faces seemed to follow his every step. Raphael shuddered. Were these the _catacombs?_ Creepy though they were, the smell was preferable to the next damp passage. Raphael held his breath until there was a faint light above them. The chevaliers frog-marched him up a flight of stairs and forced him onto his knees. He gaped around the circular chamber, catching the gaze of Napoleon, Jean-François, Inspector Vergier…

Then, finally, his father.

* * *

Vergier checked his watch. Five minutes until midnight. Charlotte and Fondue should have reached the catacombs by now. Hopefully the chevaliers wouldn't question their location...

"This isn't going to work," the handcuffed Graf coughed. A flock of birds sprang out of trees surrounding Les Invalides. Vergier was tempted to strangle him.

"It better work, for your sake," Isaac mumbled, peering through the window of the military museum.

"You would be familiar with our base's layout after your 'grand heist'…"

Vergier took the bait. "What is he blathering about?"

Graf smirked at him, appearing all the more sinister with a bandaged eye. "Why, didn't Isaac tell you? He was the one who orchestrated the theft of Napoleon's casket and alerted you of our presence with the seal. Imbecile."

Vergier stared at Isaac. "That was you?"

Isaac sighed, "Raphael was dreadfully ill as a child. I needed to pay for his treatment."

"And now look where the poor lad has ended up!" Graf crowed.

Vergier held Isaac's gaze. He handed him one of his guns and pointed to Graf. "If he reveals our plan to Bonar, you have my permission to silence him."

"Gladly." Isaac jabbed the gun into Graf's shoulder. "Move."

Inside the dimly lit tomb, Leonard Bonar was waiting with a small army of chevaliers. Bonar bore a likeness to Napoleon Bonaparte in attire alone. Physically, he was tall and boasted a golden beard. The real emperor was shorter, dark-haired and lacked a helmet in all of the paintings Vergier had studied. Was this Napoleon imposter just a scaremonger, as Isaac had said? Or did Isaac know more than he was telling?

Vergier blinked when he noticed that Napoleon's casket was back, though it had been moved to reveal a staircase leading underground. Was _that_ how Isaac carried out the crime? With a quick scan of the floor, Vergier found that the organisation's mark… the spell had disappeared. No one would suspect Napoleon of walking out of his own tomb. Vergier's biggest concern was _who_ had woken the emperor.

Isaac quirked a smile at the chevaliers. _"_ I see you have quite the Bona _party_ prepared for us."

"Call it my _crowning achievement_ ," Bonar countered. He and Isaac chuckled. Vergier exchanged an awkward glance with Graf.

When Bonar's amusement faded, he threw his hand out. "Now, enough with the puns. Give us the Dragon Crown. And don't bother using a fake. I can see through your forgeries."

"You always had an eye for good art," Isaac agreed. Vergier watched as he held up the crown. "I want to see Raphael."

"You are in no position to be giving orders. You have two bargaining items while we have _four_."

Was that all Emma and the others were to him, _items?_ Vergier ground his teeth together, hoping Isaac's negotiations would buy them enough time.

"Really? Because I think the crown is worth _much_ more than that," Isaac bartered, balancing the crown on the tip of his finger. He pretended to drop it. The chevaliers edged forward.

"Very well! You may see your son in exchange for the crown." Bonar nodded to a pair of chevaliers and they marched down the stairs. Charlie may have already released Raphael. Vergier braced himself.

But the chevaliers returned with Raphael ten minutes later. The boy looked overwhelmed, but not badly wounded. His eyes widened at the sight of Isaac. He winced when Bonar held a sword to his neck.

"Hand over the crown or he loses his head."

"D-don't!" Raphael spluttered, still staring at Isaac. "You needed to get the crown before them. That's why you left, isn't it?" His father said nothing, did nothing.

"This is your last chance, Isaac…"

" _No!"_ Vergier rushed towards Raphael.

Bonar lifted his blade for the final blow. Isaac lifted his arm. Beams of light shot out of his wrist, levitating the startled chevaliers into the air. This included Bonar and his sword. He bellowed, "It's the Bracelet of Tiamat. DO SOMETHING!"

Vergier helped Raphael to his feet. Isaac's arm shook under the power of the bracelet. He grunted, "Get… Raphael out—" He was cut off by a handcuff chain around his throat. In his bid to save Raphael, Vergier had left Graf unguarded. Isaac choked, hands scrabbling to his throat. With his concentration broken, he dropped the crown and the light of the bracelet flickered out. Bonar and his forces fell to the floor. Graf kicked the crown towards them.

Raphael and Vergier rushed over to pull Graf away from Isaac. By the time they succeeded, the chevaliers had surrounded them once more.

"Well done, Graf," Bonar said, picking up the crown. "We now have everything we need… except for these three miserable monkeys."

Isaac coughed, "Is it too late to make like a banana—"

"—and _split_?" Raphael finished.

How could they be joking in a time like this? Vergier had no idea. He could only hope that Charlie had managed to rescue Marie, the Duchess and Emma.

 _Emma…_

Why could he hear her favorite song? Someone was playing it on a violin. Confused, everyone looked at the staircase. The music was coming from below.

Isaac smiled triumphantly as his bracelet turned orange. "Song of Awakening… It's Elizabeth!"

In a flash of orange light, the Duchess ascended the staircase. She was followed by Emma, Charlotte, the violinist who must have been Marie…

And an army of the undead.


	8. Chapter 8

Raphael stared at the skeletal figures trudging up the stairs. They were bare, missing the odd limb and brought with them a reek of decay. Raphael shielded his mouth and nose. Were those the human remains he'd seen in the catacombs tunnel? Whatever the case, Marie seemed to be controlling them with her song. (It wasn't Moon Princess, but Raphael thought he recognised it.)

The chevaliers fled at the sight of the reawakened dead. "Cowards!" Napoleon roared. "Stay and fight for your leader!"

"Party's over," Isaac announced. He used the Bracelet of Tiamat to propel Raphael, the Vergiers, Fondue, Marie, Elizabeth and himself off the floor, out of the skeletons' way. Raphael waved to the seething Napoleon and Jean-François. The latter had the sense to escape, toot-sweet.

Inspector Vergier protested, "Graf is getting away."

"But he doesn't have the crown," Isaac pointed out.

Napoleon had removed his helmet in favour of the the Dragon Crown. Standing his ground, he pointed his sword at the skeletons. "I am your emperor, Napoleon. You were summoned to serve me—"

The skeletons rushed at him. They ripped him apart. Raphael winced at the man's screams.

Unfazed, his father said, "The dead can sense he is a fraud. It's possible they lived during the true emperor's time."

When the screams faded, Isaac touched the bracelet and lowered himself to the ground. However, he kept the others aloft.

"Watch out!" Raphael cried, concerned the skeletons would also attack him.

The blood-soaked skeletons gazed up at Marie. Isaac released Marie from the bracelet's hold and caught her and her violin.

Elizabeth uttered, "Isaac…"

Marie started to thank him, but faltered when he didn't put her down. He turned to the front exit.

"Isaac!" Elizabeth shouted, struggling in the light of the bracelet. "Let her go!"

"Let us all go," Vergier added.

Raphael gawked at his father's retreating form. "Where are you taking her? _Marie!"_

"Stop!" Marie squirmed out of Isaac's grasp. He reached for her again, but the skeletons took a step towards him.

"Tell them to stand down." With a flick of his wrist, Isaac sent Vergier flying up to the arched ceiling. "I can't hold him up there forever, and I doubt he'll survive the fall."

 _"Paul!"_

 _"Papa!"_

At Emma and Charlies' terrified cries, Marie stammered, "S-stand down, all of you." The skeletons stood back.

"Now, tell them not to follow us and to prevent the others from leaving."

Marie relayed the order. Isaac returned the shell-shocked Vergier to a safe height and took Marie by the arm.

"I won't let anything harm her," Isaac promised Elizabeth.

The Duchess called desperately, "Zoé won't want this."

 _"M-Mom?"_ Raphael barely registered his father walking out or his body hitting the floor. He sat up when Fondue nosed him in the face. He looked around listlessly.

The skeletons showed no signs of aggression, though they blocked the stairs and the exits like a barrier of bones. Charlie was hugging her parents. Elizabeth approached Raphael with her hand over her heart.

"I'm sorry, Raphael."

He shook his head. "Not your fault."

"It is, to some extent. If I had only realized your father's intentions sooner…"

"You knew him?"

"Your mother introduced him to me." A wistful smile tugged at Elizabeth's lips. "She and I were friends at a ballerina academy."

Raphael swallowed. "He needs Marie to… to bring her back, right?" Some small part of Raphael wanted it to happen.

Elizabeth nodded solemnly. She lifted a silver pendant from her neck and clutched the charm. "I thought I was protecting Marie by giving her the key to the organisation's undoing. But Moon Princess must be the Song of Restoration."

At this, Vergier rasped, "What? I was told that the moon represented 'eternal slumber'."

"You were misinformed, and so was I," Elizabeth sighed. "Isaac worked out the truth."

"We have to stop him," Charlie declared.

"First we'll need to find a way out of here," Emma said, biting her lip at the skeletons.

"Hrrrn." Fondue sneaked up on one of the skeletons and sniffed its leg. The skeleton took a swipe at him. Fondue leapt back with a yowl.

"Nice try," Raphael muttered.

"Perhaps I may be of assistance?" someone called. A rope descended from one of the arched ceiling windows.

"It's Alfred," Elizabeth gasped, "my butler. Quickly, climb up the rope."

"Charlie, Raphael, you two first," Emma urged.

Raphael began, "You go before me—" but he caved in under Emma's no-nonsense glare. (And he'd thought Charlie got that look from her father.)

Raphael picked up Fondue and waited for Charlie to grab the rope. The instant she did so, the skeletons surged towards them.

"Climbclimbclimb _climb!_ " Raphael yelled.

Charlie scrambled up the rope. Raphael followed, carrying Fondue on his shoulders. He glanced down when he heard a cry. Emma and Vergier were a decent way up the rope, but they were hanging on to Elizabeth's arms. The skeletons had caught her by the legs. She kicked and thrashed and screamed, "Let me go, both of you!"

"No!" Emma choked out.

"Please," Elizabeth begged, "save Marie. Tell her I'm sorry—"

"Sing!" Emma shouted. "Sing the song you gave to Marie!"

Elizabeth sucked in a breath and sang Moon Princess. Raphael expected the skeletons to transform back into living people. This wasn't the case, but they seemed to be soothed by the music. Their grip on Elizabeth loosened.

Raphael and Charlie shouted, "PULL US UP!"

Alfred was strong for an old butler. He hauled all six of them them through the window and onto the roof. When Elizabeth emerged, Alfred took her in his arms. "Elizabeth… Your Grace, are you quite alright?"

"I am now, thank you." Elizabeth smiled wearily at him and the Vergiers. Then, she frowned. "Isaac has taken Marie."

Alfred hummed. "I thought I saw three figures leaving the premises."

 _"Three?_ " Emma said.

"Graf must still be working with Isaac," Vergier grumbled.

"I'll bet they've gone to Notre Dame," Raphael said. "Jean-François told me Napoleon was crowned emperor there. And my mother was buried in a cemetery nearby." Though, she probably wasn't buried anymore. Raphael repressed a shudder.

"That's right…" Elizabeth devised, "Alfred and I will rescue Marie. I want the rest of you to find a musical conductor called Charles Musson. He was at the Palace of Versailles earlier. Ask him what he knows about the Phantom Notes— they could make up the true Song of Eternal Slumber."

"The Vergiers can handle that." Raphael argued, "I'm helping you save Marie."

"Your mother would never forgive me if you got hurt—"

He growled, "I'm sick of waiting around for my father. Let me face him with you." Fondue barked, backing up Raphael.

Elizabeth held Raphael's gaze. When he refused to look away, she relented, "Very well."

Charlie tugged on Raphael's arm. "I'll come too."

Raphael grinned. "Thanks, but you guys need to find those Phantom Notes."

"Just don't get yourself killed. _C'est compris?"_ Reluctantly, she let go of him.

"And do not be deceived by Isaac," Vergier warned.

"Don't worry about me—"

Emma enfolded him in a hug. "Take care, Raphael."

* * *

"Really, you could have _told_ me you were going to betray Vergier."

Isaac threw open the cathedral doors. "I had no intention of doing so until Raphael was out of the chevaliers' hands."

Jean-François huffed as he hauled their captive inside. "Honestly, Marie, you're acting like a child. Can't you just behave?"

"I've _always_ behaved for you." Marie dug her heels into the chequered tiles. "A-all my life, I trusted you. I didn't want to believe the horrible things Raphael said about you, but he was right!"

Jean-François clicked his tongue. "That boy was a terrible influence on you."

"That _boy_ happens to be my son," Isaac reminded, leading them into a small room to the left of the alter.

Marie gasped at the sight of two ghastly figures. One stood as proud as a marble statue, wearing an authoritative white cape and a black hat. It almost overshadowed its neighbor: a frail, frighteningly pale woman with limp brown hair. She gazed inertly at the floor, but her neck seemed to be bent at a slight angle.

"Wh- who are they?" Marie stuttered.

Jean-François bowed towards the caped figure. "That is the real Emperor Napoleon."

The emperor lifted his head. His eyes were calculating and yet, so cold. Lifeless.

Marie shivered. "B-but why did that man at Les Invalides claim to be Napoleon?"

"Leonard Bonar's task was to strike fear into the heart of Paris, paving the way for the emperor's glorious return," Jean-François explained. He caught Marie by the shoulders when she took a tentative step back. "By playing Moon Princess, you will channel the people's fear— their energy— to restore Napoleon's body to life."

"No… No, I won't do it!" She shot a hopeless glance at Isaac.

"If you won't do it for Napoleon, do it for Raphael's mother," Isaac murmured.

Marie's gaze darted back to the dead woman, who had also raised her head. Her eyes would have been the same warm brown as Raphael's if they weren't so dull. Marie wondered if she had been like Raphael in character— carefree, friendly and full of life. All she could see now was the hollow shell of a person.

"I'm sorry," Marie whispered to the woman.

Jean-François sighed, "I knew we should have brought Elizabeth."

"You'll do."

Marie shrieked at the sound of a gunshot. Jean-François collapsed, choking and clutching his chest.

 _"Jean-François!"_ A sob tore itself from Marie's mouth. She fell to her guardian's side. Her hands hovered over his chest.

"You can save him, along with Raphael's mother," Isaac assured her. "But you'll have to be quick." Marie looked at him, her teary eyes widening.

Isaac removed the Bracelet of Tiamat and went to place it on the woman's arm. Napoleon lashed out at an immortal speed, catching the bracelet in his hand.

"What are you—?" Isaac was hurled across room. His head cracked against a wall.

Now wearing the bracelet, Napoleon turned to Marie expectantly. Marie swallowed, glancing at the still forms of Isaac and Jean-François. Raphael's father and someone she had seen as her own…

She had to save them, even if it meant restoring the emperor to life.


	9. Chapter 9

Elizabeth had allowed Raphael to accompany her… on the condition that he obeyed her every order. Raphael curbed his complaints as they hurried to the cathedral. So what if he'd fallen for Jean-François's 'orders'? So what if it was a mistake to trust his father? Yeah, Raphael had been dragged through this game of deceit and dragon crowns and the undead, but so had Marie. All that mattered now was saving her. Even if it meant following another liar.

True, Elizabeth claimed she'd been friends with his parents. But back at Versailles, she'd pretended not to be Marie's mother— _broke_ Marie's heart— 'to protect' her.

When Raphael raised this concern, Alfred huffed, "How dare you make such baseless accusations. Her Grace was caught in an impossible situation because of that scoundrel Jean-François."

"No, Alfred. He's right." Elizabeth fixed her gaze on Raphael. "I should have been there for my daughter… and for you, after the accident—"

Fondue's ears perked up. "Woeuf!"

"I can hear it too," Raphael said. "Moon Princess!" The melody was rushed and desperate– a distress call.

Notre Dame loomed before them now. Twenty or so chevaliers loitered outside. (Did they _ever_ know when to quit?)

"Raphael, enter from the roof and get Marie out," Elizabeth breathed. "Alfred and I will fight our way through the chevaliers."

Alfred handed Raphael his escape rope. Raphael nodded to Fondue and, ignoring Elizabeth's protests, the two of them pelted towards the chevaliers.

 _"_ _Excusez-moi_ _…_ _Pardon… Désolé…"_ Raphael said as they hopped over the chevaliers' heads one by one.

Raphael fashioned the rope into a lasso and threw it up to an angel statue in front of the South Rose Window. Fondue leapt on his back. Raphael scaled the cathedral wall until he mounted a ledge below the window.

Fondue glanced over the edge, growled and pushed his weight against a gargoyle statue.

"Since we're stealing all of Quasimodo's moves…" Raphael helped him shove the gargoyle onto a chevalier below. "Okay, you can take out the rest of those guys with Elizabeth and Alfred. I'm going in to find Marie."

Raphael considered busting a window to get inside. Wait— the last time he did that, he got himself caught. (The stained glass windows were too beautiful to break, anyway.) He gathered the rope and shuffled along the ledge, searching for an easier way in. Marie's music had to be escaping from somewhere…

Raphael looked up. Above the South Rose Window, there was a row of open pillars. Bingo.

By the time Raphael reached the pillars, Marie had stopped playing. Eerily, Raphael was reminded of a history lecture Émile had given him on coalminers. They used to take canaries down to the mines, but when the birds quit singing… you knew something was wrong.

 _Where was Marie?_

None of the cathedral's candles were lit. If Raphael squinted, he could just make out the main alter from his lookout point…

 _"_ _Help!"_

There was Marie, running down the aisle of pews with her violin. Someone was chasing her. Raphael couldn't tell if it was Jean-François or his father. He didn't care. He was about to swing down and grab Marie, when the doors boomed open. Elizabeth swept inside. Marie turned. Her pursuer plucked the violin from her hands.

 _Crack._

The violin was snapped in two. Marie whimpered.

Raphael saw red. He dived. Not for Marie. He landed on the caped man's back. The man grunted as Raphael grabbed his neck, dragging him down. He tried to fling Raphael off as he stumbled backwards. Finally, the man fell over. Raphael flipped over the man's head.

Panting, Raphael grinned at Marie, Elizabeth and Alfred. They were all gaping at him.

No… not at him. Raphael turned when Elizabeth mouthed _her_ name.

A woman had tripped Marie's attacker over. She stood up straight on short, toned legs. She stared at Raphael, her eyes lighting up as she recognized him. She staggered towards him, stopped and then stammered, "R-Raphael?"

He mumbled, "Hi, Mom."

"You've grown so much… How old…?"

"I'm sixteen."

"Sixteen?" she gasped. Her gaze shifted to Elizabeth, who was checking Marie for injuries. "Liz? You look so… so _old._ "

"Thank you, Zoé." Elizabeth let out a watery laugh. "You're looking as lovely as ever."

"I shouldn't—" Zoé's hands flew to her throat. "—Shouldn't be here. Should I? No, I remember the c-crash…"

Slowly, Raphael explained, "Dad brought you back—"

"Your father!" Marie exclaimed. "And Jean-François!" She grabbed the remains of her violin and rushed into a small side room. All of them followed her apart from Alfred, who watched over the fallen man.

"Zack?" Zoé called.

Raphael felt a flash of relief when he saw his father sitting up, rubbing his head. He groaned, "Zoé—? She caught him with a kiss. When she pulled away, his fingers traced the lines of her heart-shaped face. He laughed, "You really are alive…!"

Jean-François also lurched up with a moan. Elizabeth dug her heel into his red-stained chest, pinning him back down. "I'd play dead if I were you," she hissed. Jean-François lay still as a chided dog, though he scowled at her.

Marie regarded him warily. "I- I had to play the song to heal them, but it worked on Napoleon too."

"You owe her your life," Raphael growled at Isaac, "and an apology for _kidnapping_ her!"

Isaac was still laughing, breathlessly now. "I'm sorry, Marie. But thank you, thank you _so much_ —!" He was cut short by a slap to the face.

Zoé let him go in horror. "What have you _done_ , Isaac?"

"He abandoned your son, joined an 'evil' organization, and revived France's one and only emperor."

 _"_ _Shut up,"_ everyone shouted at Jean-François.

Zoé sighed, "How can we fix this?" When Isaac refused to answer, she turned to Elizabeth.

The Duchess admitted reluctantly, "The Song of Eternal Slumber will lay all those who were resurrected to rest. The catacomb skeletons, Napoleon…"

"And me," Zoé finished.

Raphael grabbed her hand. What could he say? _I want you to stay more than anything but then we'd all have to live with a loony emperor and a legion of the undead…_

He was three when she died. Old enough to echo her lullabies, to imitate her smile and to inherit her sense of rhythm. Those parts of her would always be with him. But seeing her now— fervent, lovely and _alive_ — filled the gaps in his memory with light. How could he let her go again? It nearly killed him the first time…

He wasn't any better than his father, was he?

"Mom," he choked out. "I can't—"

"I know _,_ _mon petit._ _"_ She squeezed his hand. "But the show's not over yet. Let's focus on finding this song first."

"Um…" Mother and son looked at Marie when she asked, "How are we going to play the song without my violin?" She cradled the ruined instrument to her chest.

Elizabeth considered, "Napoleon is now a living, breathing man. He should be as vulnerable as any other mortal being—"

Jean-François scoffed underneath Elizabeth's foot. "You forget that, in life, Napoleon was a brilliant strategist."

There was a yell, a bark and a burst of light. Recognizing the Bracelet of Tiamat's handiwork, Raphael rushed out to the alter room.

Fondue was in a frenzy. Alfred was on his hands and knees. Napoleon was gone.

* * *

"Eighteen…" Vergier pinched his forehead. " _Eighteen_ Phantom Notes and you are not even sure _where_ they are located?"

Charles Musson looked exhausted. (Vergier couldn't blame him, after being called back to Versailles at this hour.) The grizzled conductor shook his head. "All I know is that pieces of the notes are scattered throughout Paris—"

 _"_ _Pieces?"_ Charlie parroted. "You mean we have to put them together as well?"

"If you want to complete the music scrap, yes," Charles sighed.

How long did they have before Isaac and Graf completed their plans, or before those skeletons invaded Paris?

"We can search the entire city in time," Emma asserted. Vergier and Charlie blinked at her. Emma smiled. "But we're going to need help. Lots of it."

Vergier grinned, grabbed Emma and Charlies' hands, and bounded out of the palace. "We must alert the Constabulary immediately!"

"Good luck," Charles called after them. "I'll ask my orchestra to keep an eye out!"

"My students and their families can help too," Emma added.

Charlie was already phoning her friend. "Urbain…?" She was answered by a yawn. " _Réveille-toi! …_ Yes, it is three in the morning. This is urgent." She explained the situation and ordered him to inform their teammates, their neighbors and anyone they met on the street.

Word spread across Paris: Everybody had to join the hunt.


	10. Chapter 10

Much to Raphael's discontent, his father was coming with them to catch Napoleon. Isaac claimed he would slay Napoleon with his bare hands if it meant less reason to play the last song. Raphael couldn't argue with him there. (Besides, they'd used all of Alfred's rope to tie Jean-François up in the cathedral.)

Fondue picked up Napoleon's scent from Marie's violin. He led them as far as Musée Rodin, just west of Raphael's apartment, but then he started whining and moving in circles.

Raphael sighed, "Lost the scent—?"

"Hey, Raphie!"

 _"Michel?"_ Raphael gaped at his grey-haired schoolmate. "What are you doing out— you know, never mind. We've gotta go."

Before he could hustle his parents and the others away, someone else hollered, "Hold on a minute!" There was Émile as well. He'd been inspecting one of Rodin's sculptures. Shifting his glasses, he smirked at Raphael. "Have you joined the search for the Phantom Notes?"

"What?" (How did they know about that?)

"Keep up, Raphael! People are looking for the Phantom Notes all over Paris. If you find any, you need to bring them to the Palace of Versailles."

"I'll meet you at the palace later," Raphael said. "First I need to find… this guy who looks like Napoleon Bonaparte, wearing a black hat and a cape. Seen him?"

"Nope." Michel clicked his tongue. "Why are you after someone like that?"

"For a reenactment," Zoé filled in. Raphael and his friends gazed at her. She added, "If I were a disorientated Napoleon, I'd want to retrace my steps from the place that I died."

"Well, Napoleon died in 1831 on St Helena," Émile informed them. "That's a tiny volcanic island in the South Atlantic."

Michel remarked, "Your runaway Napoleon is going to need a boat—"

"I'll bet he's headed for the Seine river," Isaac intervened.

"No wonder Fondue couldn't smell him if he's in the water!" Raphael flashed Michel and Émile a grin. "Thanks guys. See you soon!"

As he explained the situation to Marie, her mother and Alfred, the boys muttered:

"Was that the Duchess Elizabeth?"

"Was that Raphael's _dad?"_

Elizabeth reasoned, "We should have the song prepared before we face Napoleon."

"Do that and we risk losing him down the river," Isaac argued. "Let me take him out first. Then we'll worry about the song—"

"We're wasting time," Zoé cut in. "Liz, you organize the Phantom Notes at the palace while Isaac and I find Napoleon."

Marie turned to Raphael, biting her lip. "Are you going with your parents?"

Raphael nodded. Who knew how much time he had left with his mother?

Marie hugged him as Zoé hugged Elizabeth.

"Promise you won't hesitate to play the song," Zoé whispered. Elizabeth promised and Zoé kissed her cheek. "Take care of them."

With that, Raphael, his parents and Fondue rushed to Pont Alexandre III, where they had a clear view of the river from the bridge. Only a few boats were out this early, so it didn't take long to pinpoint the one Napoleon had chosen.

"There." Isaac pointed at a small cargo vessel when he heard cries from its crewmembers. The sailors were thrown overboard by the Bracelet of Tiamat.

"Here he comes," Zoé said as the boat passed underneath the bridge. "Get ready to jump."

Isaac pulled out a pistol, checking how many bullets it contained. "I can't jump that far!"

'You're going to have to if you want a decent shot."

Raphael and Fondue hopped onto the bridge's stone railing after Zoé. "We can make it," Raphael said.

Zoé took his hand, and then Isaac's as he clambered up on her other side. When the cargo vessel emerged from beneath the bridge, they jumped.

Lithely, Raphael crouched on top of the vessel's control room, as did Zoé. Even Fondue landed next to them on all fours. Isaac hit the deck with a bang.

"Well, he knows we're here now," Isaac muttered. He ripped open the door to the control room, aiming his pistol inside.

"D-don't shoot!" a man cried. "He hijacked the boat— forced me to drive!"

Raphael and Zoé exchanged a glance. Zoé signaled to the front of the control room— to the window. Raphael nodded and peeked through the window. He was met with the terrified face of a crew member, who was driving the boat. Behind him, Napoleon stood with his back to the window, facing Isaac.

To the driver, Raphael mimed zipping his mouth shut. The man bit his lip. Raphael looked up at Zoé again. How could they attack Napoleon without injuring the driver?

Isaac wasn't concerned for the potential casualty. He fired a shot. The driver yelped. A blast of light shattered the control room's windows. Could the Bracelet of Tiamat block a bullet? No time to find out.

Raphael and Zoé helped the driver scramble out of the window and onto the roof.

"M-merci…"

"Get out of here!" Raphael shoved him into the water, assuming the sailor could swim.

Another gunshot. Another burst of gold.

Isaac was launched away from the control room and against the deck. He was unarmed.

Napoleon swept onto the deck, preparing the bracelet for a final blow. He was halted as Zoé leapt at him from behind and wrapped his cape around his head. Raphael kicked him over.

The blinded emperor staggered to the edge of the rocking boat. Fondue's jaws latched around his wrist, trying to tear off the bracelet. With a muffled roar, Napoleon threw Fondue overboard.

"Fondue!" Raphael didn't think. He dived in after Fondue as Isaac barreled towards Napoleon.

The Seine wasn't exactly 'clean', but from the way the city's lights shone on the water, Raphael had thought it would be cleaner than this. And warmer.

Holding his breath, he squinted through the murkiness. _Where are you, buddy—?_

There was an almighty splash above him. The air was knocked out of his lungs as someone— Napoleon?— hit him. Raphael floundered out of his way. But Napoleon didn't strike him again. The emperor was being dragged down by… by… Dad? Raphael's vision was swimming too much for him to tell.

Arms grabbed his waist, hoisting him up. His head was suddenly above water. He choked out, "F-Fondue?"

"Fondue's fine," Zoé grunted as she swam with him to shore.

Raphael realized that the boats had stopped moving and a crowd had gathered along Pont Alexandre III and the river's edge. Amongst them was Inspector Vergier, who helped Raphael up a ladder and onto the jetty. Charlie was beside her father, holding a shivering Fondue.

At the sight of Raphael, Fondue leapt out of her arms and cuddled up to him. He was soaked through and reeked of that wet dog smell, but he was safe. Raphael released a shaky sigh. "You're ok."

'Are _you_?" Charlie checked.

"D-Dad's still down there…" Raphael gazed over the water, to where his mother had dived back under.

A minute might have passed. Raphael felt trapped underwater again, unable to breathe. Charlie reminded him to do so. Vergier dropped a coat over his shoulders.

Finally, Zoé burst to the surface, coughing and carrying Isaac. Vergier helped her haul him out. Raphael knelt next to Isaac's body as Zoé forced air into his lungs and pounded on his chest over and over again.

 _Don't do this to me again, Dad. Don't leave…_

Isaac spluttered back to life, spitting up water. Rubbing his back, Zoé sighed and smiled wearily at Raphael.

The crowd of spectators cheered. They may not have understood the end result– Napoleon's demise, the failure of the Mystère Organization and the reunion of Raphael's family— but they were jubilant. There was even a band playing somewhere in the distance…

Raphael heard a gasp. He glanced at his mother. She was her clutching at her neck, choking on tears. Reliving her death.

Raphael's eyes widened. "No! Mom, hold on! We'll get help!" He begged Vergier to call the hospital or Emma or Elizabeth. Napoleon was gone. They didn't need to play the last song anymore. Marie could calm the skeletons like before…

Why wasn't Dad _doing something?_ He was still sprawled across the jetty, staring at Zoé.

She took a step back towards the water. "I'm so glad…" Her breath hitched. "I saw you. But you can't to see me—" She fell into the river before Raphael could reach her.

The crowd went quiet. When the music stopped, Fondue went to nudge Raphael's hand. Charlie touched his shoulder. Vergier offered up an apology.

Isaac mumbled, "I suppose you'll want to arrest me now."

"I should," Vergier admitted. "But I am retiring as of today, so it is no longer my duty. Be warned, however; the rest of the Constabulary are on their way from Les Invalides..."

Slowly, Isaac stood up, turning to his son. "I'll find you, Raphael—"

"Just go."

Isaac disappeared into the crowd.

* * *

 ** _There's more stuff after the credits, stay tuned!_**

* * *

 ** _Ending Credits (Theme: Phantom Notes)_**

Featured Rhythm Thief Characters Belonging to Sega:

Raphael/Phantom R

Fondue

Isaac

Charlie Vergier

Inspector Vergier

Emma Vergier

Marie

Duchess Elizabeth

Alfred

Jean-François

Leonard Bonar

Josette

Professor Alàn

Charles

Michel

Émile

Eric

Urbain

The Chevaliers Diablolique

OC Stand-in:

Zoé

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A Rhythm Thief AU Fanfic written by:

The Mocking J

* * *

Perhaps the orchestra Charles Musson had assembled, led by Marie on the violin, could have tried to resurrect Zoé Laurent. But then, the same could have been done for Professor Alàn, and even Leonard Bonar (someone might be mourning for him).

The cycle would never end.

Duchess Elizabeth had all traces of the Mystère Organization's mark destroyed, along with the Phantom Notes. What little remained of the chevaliers were rounded up, and anyone involved in the 'incident' was sworn to secrecy.

That didn't mean, however, that no one would remember. A memorial was held at the Sorbonne for Professor Alàn, attended by a myriad of students, colleagues and admirers. This included Jean-François, much to the surprise of many. (He was heavily guarded, to the surprise of none.)

A small few saw it as joint memorial. Elizabeth lamented that Paris had lost a 'dear friend'. In honor of the deceased, Marie played a song of her own design.

Raphael didn't condemn her for returning the catacombs' souls to rest. Still, he couldn't stay for the entirety of her performance.

He and Fondue slipped away from the Vergiers— they were still looking out for him, after everything- and stood on the outskirts of the Sorbonne. They were searching for an absent attendee.

Raphael waited, clutching the coin Inspector Vergier had quietly returned to him.

 _"Heads,_ he'll be here," Raphael told Fondue. _"Tails,_ he'll bail on us." He flipped the coin, caught it and showed it to Fondue.

 _Tails._

His father approached from the shadows.

Raphael smiled.


End file.
